


No Set Gauge

by Rubynye



Category: Star Trek XI
Genre: Female Character of Color, Female Friendship, One of My Favorites, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uhura and Gaila save each other, with a little help from their crewmates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Set Gauge

Title: No Set Gauge  
Fandom: Star Trek XI  
Rating: R with warnings.  
Characters: Gaila, Uhura, OCs.  
Summary: Uhura and Gaila save each other, with a little help from their crewmates. For [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/8893.html?thread=27632829#t27632829) at [](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/)**st_xi_kink**.  
Content Advisory: Calling this het is brutally inaccurate, but it's not G-rated gen. Includes rape, violence, and injury.  
Acknowledgements: The OP for wanting this and encouraging me to write it.  
_Disclaimer:_ None of these characters or their settings belong to me.  
Title From: The [Hymn of Breaking Strain](http://www.kipling.org.uk/poems_strain.htm) by Rudyard Kipling.  
ETA: And now, [ a sequel](http://rubynye.livejournal.com/442679.html).  


As Yeoman Chisa tears his undershirt into strips and Nyota cleans Gaila's wounded foot, Gaila grits her teeth, presses her knuckles against the packed dirt floor, and considers her favorite hairclip. Nyota gave it to her, and she's wearing it today, as she does most days and on every away mission; it's a segmented goldtone bar ten cm long and two wide, with a row of tiny bumps on the underside that help organize her curls. Those bumps are also buttons that convert it into an adjustable wrench, and as her foot throbs under Nyota's careful hands, the cloth scraps burning like sandpaper, Gaila runs through the clip's settings. She's probably going to need it.

Right now, the best feature of her hairclip is that it's mechanical except for the welding laser in the hinge; the five of them were merely forced to surrender their visible equipment before they were hustled in here, but all their remaining electronics are jammed by the force field installed in this cell. There's a dim daytime glow from windows up the corridor, but Nyota and Ensign Gavrink are working by the shaky light of Cadet Wilkins's handful of chemical glowsticks. Gaila really should be holding them, she's got two good hands rather than one, but Wilkins seems to need the task to concentrate on as she presses her lips tightly, sweat rolling from her hairline as Gavrink straps her broken forearm to her chest with Chisa's undershirt sleeves.

Just as Nyota ties off the outermost strip of cloth around Gaila's foot, three of their captors show up at the barred cell door, two wielding disruptors. Gaila's pleased to see that the apparent leader, a florid-pink twit in orange, is peering through squinting, swollen-dark eyes. She punched him with both fists when he grabbed her, even though he popped a blade from his boot and stabbed her through the foot, even though for a moment she thought he'd kill her, before Nyota called out desperately in some language Gaila doesn't know and Orangy Twit laughed and let Chisa help her up.

She's not so pleased by his grin, or that she and her crewmates are his captives. She's met his sort before as customers of her final owner, and she learned quickly to hate the sight of them, let alone other sensory impressions. Chisa spots the pirates outside the cell and stands because he's the biggest, and Nyota stands with him because she's the ranking officer, lightly squeezing Gaila's shoulder as she steps forward. "Up, all you," orders Orangy Twit through a tinny-sounding translator, so Gavrink gives Gaila a hand and she leans on his shoulder while she negotiates her balance on one foot.

"This wasn't the mission," Gavrink snuffles through his snout, and Gaila pats his arm to quell him. Life isn't predictable, including away missions, and at least now they have proof the Taranak VI ruins are being used as hidey-holes by the local menaces to shipping, if they can survive to alert the _Enterprise_.

Orangy Twit motions them away from each other, and avoids positioning himself between his men and his prisoners as he moves among them, frisking them one by one, dropping their weapons into a pouch on his belt. He runs his hands all over Nyota, who stares over his head the entire time, but he barely searches Chisa, just checks his pockets. When he gets to Wilkins she whimpers and turns her head as he shoves a hand under her sling, her eyes running over with tears, her jaw clenched tight, and he laughs, squeezing her fingers as he takes the lightsticks away.

Gavrink makes a grumbly noise, and Orangy Twit punches him in the chest. He coughs and wobbles but stands his ground, and Orangy Twit frisks him so quickly he only gets the communicator, missing the flashlight Gaila knows Gavrink has, then tosses the pouch of confiscated items to the left-hand pirate.

Then it's Gaila's turn, and it's as unpleasant as she expects. Orangy Twit squeezes her breasts and hips and ass, but she looks straight ahead like Nyota did, tries to suppress her winces, concentrates on keeping her balance. She knows his sort. So he grabs her shoulders and shoves her, and she hits the floor too hard not to gasp. Nyota gasps with her, Chisa curses, and Gaila glares up at Orangy Twit as he stands over her, his fists on his hips.

Gaila's stomach roils, but she has a plan for this. Now he's between her and his armed men, so whether he grabs her head or gets on the floor with her, she can convert her clip into a screwdriver and stab him before they can shoot her. The door's still open, so that should give Nyota a chance to get everyone else out.

The Federation's been a good life these last seven years. Gaila swallows hard, feeling the button sequence in her twitching fingers, braced for his hands on her skin, ready to reach for her hair.

Then Orangy Twit steps back into the doorway, standing outside the range of the jamming field, and Gaila can't be more disappointed than she's relieved. "Fun to play with such large guests," he says, "but we have no room onboard." That means the pirates are abandoning their main ship for their shuttle; Gaila sees Nyota blink as she realizes also. Gaila wants to smile triumphantly because they successfully disabled it before the pirates caught them, and wonders a little why any of them are still alive, but holds her face still. "When our ship ready we leave you here for Feddies to come get. With field set to exclude air and door locked, or..." His grin widens, and one of his men does a little eager shuffle. "Or with field off and door open, if first one you pretty girls come out here and fun up our wait." Just to be fully, crudely clear, he gestures towards his crotch with a little pelvic thrust, and Wilkins's wet eyes go round, then shift to Gaila. So do Gavrink's, and Chisa's, and the pirates'.

Gaila watches everyone look at her, struggles against being angry, and succeeds in not throwing up. After Starfleet, after everything she's become, she's still the Orion girl. She pushes against the floor, getting her good foot beneath her --

Nyota steps forward, upright and unhesitating. Everyone looks at her, Orangy Twit's eyes widen and he licks his lips as he looks at her, and now Gaila's furious, because nobody should look at Nyota like she's merely a thing to be fucked, not _ever_. Gaila's dealt with that look before, she knows it's not true so she can deal with it now, but Nyota shouldn't ever have to--

Nyota glances back, her ponytail swinging, and though she says, "Hang on until I return," to all of them, she smiles at Gaila. Orangy Twit grabs her arm, pulling her against him as his underlings laugh, and the pirates clang the door shut, trailing noise as they leave with Nyota.

Gaila's breathing too fast, she feels the dizziness rising and pushes it back, closing her eyes. Now _she's_ the ranking officer, Lieutenant Junior Grade Gaila, and she repeats her title to herself, opens her eyes, and glances around. "Ensign Gavrink," she forces out, "give me your flashlight and my boot."

"Why? What are you going to do?" At least he obeys as he argues. "Are you going after Lieutenant Uhura? Why didn't--" He shuts his mouth, then, and Gaila doesn't throw her boot at him, or let herself waste air explaining. She's the ranking officer. Instead, she lines up her wounded foot, catches her bottom lip in her teeth, and swallows a scream as she yanks the boot on. It's a tight fit over the bandages, her foot throbbing like a banging drum, but she gets the boot on.

"Shut _up_, Gavrink," snaps Wilkins, "do you have _any_ idea--"

"That's _Ensign Gavrink_, Cadet, I rank you--"

"Shut up, _everyone_," Gaila says, cold and sharp the way Nyota does when she's truly angry. Chisa takes that without protest, and Gaila smiles gratefully as she hands him the flashlight. "Yeoman Chisa, turn that on and hold it up to the ceiling."

"But the--" starts Gavrink, and Gaila lets herself glare at him. He steps back, his deep-set eyes widening.

"Yes, ma'am," says Chisa, and Gaila is going to _kiss_ him when this is all over. He steps to the center of the cell, lifting the flashlight.

"Now walk back and forth like -- like it's a paintbrush, and you're painting the ceiling." Chisa obeys, and Wilkins shifts out of his way when he reaches her, cradling her arm with her good hand. Gavrink makes a little snuffly huffing noise, but Gaila just watches the dark flashlight in Chisa's hand, thinking of vectors and field strength lines, thinking of Nyota stepping forward when everyone knew the pirates meant Gaila.

The flashlight flickers, white on the dull metal ceiling. Chisa stops and stares. Wilkins cries out a soft "Oh!".

"Keep _going!_" Gaila barely restrains herself from shouting. That's a spot beyond the field, and by the time Chisa's walked the entire area of the room, she has five more such locations, a good idea of the field's shape, and a guess as to the location of the generator.

So she gets up on one foot and booted toes, hobbles to the back wall, and knocks, listening carefully over the rough voices from down the corridor and the ache radiating up her leg. This room's conversion into a cell shows every sign of slipshod hastiness, and the wall's metal plates ring hollowly until one at waist height rattles with a semisolid thud. Time for Gaila's clip.

When she pulls it from her hair she hears three little shocked noises behind her, and "What _is_ that?" from Gavrink. Gaila continues ignoring him and keys in the screwdriver setting.

Chemical-green brightness glows on the dim panel; Gaila glances back to see Wilkins approaching with another handful of lightsticks. "You have more?"

"I have the whole package." Wilkins smiles despite the pain lines creasing her face, and Gaila's going to kiss her too, later, when this is just a story they tell over beer and nailpolish. "That _asshole_ was too busy groping me to find them."

"Yeah." Gaila would agree at profane length, but she needs to concentrate on loosening the screws by hand, one by one until the panel pops loose at each corner. When it detaches, Gaila kneels as she lowers it to the floor, exposing the field generator attached to its back side.

Of course it's a self-contained unit, not connected to anything vital. Gaila contemplates the blinking circuitry, turning her clip in her hand, until she hears a noise from down the corridor, a choked-off sob that streams a chill down her spine. She remembers the bitter taste of that noise in her own mouth, the moment when the determination to remain defiantly silent is overwhelmed by sheer physical and mental pain.

Gaila's eyes blur. She smears her hand across them and swipes it on her uniform. She needs to break this thing, to get them out of this cell, to stop these pirates. To save Nyota. She needs to, she can, and she will.

As she resets her clip for a two millimeter wrench, Gaila looks up through the wavering light at Wilkins swaying, her young face seamed with exhaustion. Further back, Chisa and Gavrink stand watch on the door. "Come on, sit down."

Wilkins shakes her head. "I'm afraid to move. I might fall."

"You'll fall on me. If you sit you can hold those still, which would really help." Gaila offers her hand, and Wilkins nods and leans heavily on it, propping her elbow against the wall as she sits.

In the steadied light, Gaila can see what she needs to, the most important connections in the wiring, and it's ten turns and three cuts until the circuitry flickers and goes dark. "Ah, whoa," Chisa sputters as the flashlight in his hand flares to sudden brightness.

"You did it!" Wilkins breathes.

"Blessed excretions, Lieutenant," adds Gavrink.

Gaila smiles, but they don't have time to celebrate yet. "Yeoman Chisa, please help me up?" He starts to lift her, and she almost pushes at him, but it _is_ faster, so she lets him. "The door," she says, brandishing her clip, grinning at his confusion the way she pictures Jim Kirk would. "This has a laser, too!" When Chisa laughs, his eyes brightening, Gaila thinks she could almost get used to this leadership thing. Without the aching foot.

He starts to hold her up but she motions downwards; he sets her on the floor and she says, "Okay, back away," and pulls her arms into her dress as she keys on the laser, its little powering-up whine just the sweetest sound.

"Wait, here." Gavrink comes up and pulls off his own shirt. "Whatever you need it for."

Gaila hasn't quite forgiven him, but that earns him a big bright smile as she shrugs her dress back on. "When I start burning, start fanning." She sets the laser at the base of one bar, and Gavrink fans vigorously, blowing away the vaporized metal, and her hair all over, as she carefully cuts through.

A pained scream from down the corridor bangs Gaila's heart against her ribs, a burst of nasty laughter grits her teeth. Wilkins whimpers behind her, and Gavrink mutters something she doesn't catch over his fanning as she burns through the next bar. As soon as she keys the laser off she doesn't have to say a word; Chisa helps her scoot back, and he and Gavrink step up to the detached bars and push them apart until they have a doorway.

Then Chisa turns to her, but Gaila waves him off. "_Go_," she says. "That's an order." He does, Gavrink and Wilkins right behind him.

Gaila pushes herself up and hobbles down the corridor after them, ignoring the squelching in her boot, apprehensively enjoying the noise of the fight right until Gavrink starts shouting and worry plummets in her belly. She pushes herself faster, glancing around for any unknown hostiles, holding her breath so she won't distract her crewmates as she lurches through the doorway and sees the standoff.

The room is strewn with destroyed furniture and prone pirates, three on the floor and one with an engineer's engine-greasiness being held at phaserpoint by Gavrink, but Chisa holds a phaser and Wilkins a disruptor as they stare at Orangy Twit. He grins back, his fist clenched around Nyota's ponytail and his disruptor pressed to her cheek, one knee and one foot on the floor as he holds her kneeling in front of him. Nyota's upper lip is split, her uniform's gone and her underdress torn from collar to hem, but her eyes are cool, or maybe shocky.

Gaila's clip is heavy in her hand, but the welding laser doesn't have that kind of range. Orangy Twit blinks as she comes through the door, so she hurls her clip at his head and herself sideways. He swings his hand up to deflect it, and that gives Wilkins a clear shot. The disruptor blast vaporizes most of his head.

"I think it got turned up all the way," Wilkins says tonelessly, then crouches and vomits. Chisa bends over her, steadying her shoulders, but all Gaila can see is Nyota, shaking on her hands and knees, crawling towards her. Gaila struggles to drag herself over as her chest starts hitching, and when they meet in the middle they're both too wracked with sobs to speak. They clutch each other, and Gaila can't stop crying, but neither can Nyota, her fingers tight on Gaila's back, her tears soaking Gaila's shoulder as they shiver in each other's arms.

"Lieutenants," Gavrink says, and when Gaila can pull her face out of Nyota's smoky, tangled hair, she sees he's holding Nyota's dress and her clip. Nyota nods and takes her uniform, and Gavrink closes his eyes, one of those little gestures to privacy most Federation people like. It's just symbolic but utterly commendable, since enough of the tension eases from Nyota's shoulders that Gaila can bear to let go of her long enough for her to pull her dress on. "I've secured the prisoners and contacted the _Enterprise_," he reports, standing at ease with his hands behind his back as if Gaila and Nyota aren't sitting at his feet sniffling and wiping each other's faces. "They can't beam us up, but they're sending shuttles, ETA 12 minutes."

Gaila gulps air and tries to choke something out, but it's Nyota who asks, "What did you tell them?" her voice rough and cracked.

Gavrink looks at them then, his deep-set eyes shining. "That the Lieutenants saved us and Cadet Wilkins took down the lead pirate."

Nyota nods slowly, and again as she looks at Gaila, pushing Gaila's hair off her face. Gavrink hands her the clip, and she fixes Gaila's hair with it even though her hands tremble. "Thank you, Ensign," Nyota says, and he heads off to finish the cleanup.

The gravity seems to have gone up tenfold. Gaila's head pounds dizzily, her foot throbs, Nyota's tearstreaked face blurs before her eyes. "_It should have been me in here_," she says in Orion Prime, while she still can, because she's starting to think she might pass out. "_Not you. I am not so badly hurt._"

"_Badly enough for one lifetime_." Nyota cups Gaila's cheeks in her hands. "_I could not permit you to endure it again. Besides_," and her smile is watery but real, "_I know you wore your favorite hair clip._"

Gaila laughs, the room spinning around her, and sets her head on the only steady thing in it, Nyota's shoulder. Nyota leans her cheek on Gaila's hair, and they're still sitting together when Chisa drapes a blanket around them, and when the shuttlecraft finally arrive.


End file.
